Life is a succession of moments
by Laikea
Summary: Lucas gets sent a book, little on the ELF side


hello everyone, it's me again!!I would first like to thank all those who reviewed my other stories If you didn't then this is time to start!! I would really like to know what you think about this story because I've heard very different opinions on it. Yes the writers block which causes my sentences not to flow is still looming above me, if you notice any please let me know so I can fix it.This is just a short thing I felt like writing so be kind to me, it's like therapy for my block.  
A big thank to Jennifer, my Beta reader and to Bracken, just because she's my friend and she deserves a place here.  
Don't own seaQuest, just like inflicting emotional pain to a certain ensign.  
But now...to the story.  
  
  
"Life is a succession of moments. To live each one is to succeed"  
  
Lucas read over the line again, and then a third time, just to make sure he had it imprinted in his long term memory. He didn't recognize the book which he had been holding gently in both his hands, almost fearing that the old, worn out pages would crumble at his only touch or pulverize under his intense gaze.  
  
The small, tidy writing was familiar though, he could match it to the hand-written scrap pieces of paper he had sometimes found around the house when he had still been living on solid land. It was some-what different though, a primitive version of the type of cursive that only a feminine hand could have been capable of. It was difficult for the young ensign to imagine his mother with enough time at hand to fill such a large note-book with what seemed to be pieces of stories, quotes, even lyrics from popular songs of many years ago.  
  
He had always pictured her the way she was now, her eyes focused on the latest model of laptop, her mind trying to work ahead, forcing herself to phrase the next part of her speech effectively.He shut the manuscript softly, not wanting any possible stray pieces of wisdom to fall out and get lost in the massive pile of projects laid out before him. He placed it on the table, clear from any possibly dangerous substances, which could have harmed the delicately written sentences.  
He picked up his latest work, the mathematical sums whizzing past his eyes as he tried to concentrate on the final results of the equations. Involuntarily, he stared at the leather cover of the journal, just sitting there, waiting to be explored. Curiosity nearly had the best of him but before his fingertips even had the chance to graze the surface he heard the familiar beeping of his PAL.  
  
"Wolenczeck," He blurted out automatically into the mouthpiece.  
  
"Are you almost done with those results?" a male voice asked without even identifying itself.  
  
"Almost, captain," He replied, eyeing the barely looked-at papers.  
  
A few seconds of static followed as the line ultimately went dead. He had to stifle a sigh of frustration; his heavy eyelids told him that he definitely did not feel like researching anymore. Hudson of course, seemed to think otherwise. Before returning to work, he opened the notebook again and turned to the second page. Again at the top, over the rest of the black writing was a blue quote:  
  
-Maybe this world is another planet's hell- Aldus Huxley  
  
"How true," he thought, studying it further.  
  
This time, the last letter of the sentence was slightly smudged; a blue streak of ink tailed the 'y' giving it a less formal look, ruining the neatness, which was meant to be for the rest of the passage that followed. He didn't feel like reading it yet. It seemed like bits from a story, or maybe just a diary entry. Either way, he decided to leave it for that night, when he would have some free time and wouldn't feel the Captain's voracious demanding breath on the back of his neck.  
  
He tried to resume his calculations but it was no use. His thoughts seemed to be busy riding far away from the needed theorems. He knew there was no way he could tie them down and tame the wild things into concentrating, for he had tried many times before. This hadn't been the first occasion he had gone through the day in this somber state, lately though, it had definitely been worse than usual.  
  
Ever since a man had deposited an unexpected package into his arms and left without uttering a word of explanation. Ever since his mother's name seemed to attack him from the block marking the sender, to jump at him from the rough brown paper which had been enveloping the parcel. His curiosity had been building throughout the complete length of his shift, during which Hudson's ever-vigilant eyes had kept him from discarding the only layer of wrapping which prevented him from knowing the contents of the mysterious object.  
  
Here it finally was: A book, which held no meaning to him, something which his mother had sent with presumably no reason at all. He sat watching it, wondering why this had to arrive now, after he had managed to almost delete the image of his parents from his mind. The gift's arrival only helped to evoke the pain of abandonment which he had buried sometime ago, giving re-birth to the old familiar feelings which had haunted him in his past. The same emotions that caused tears to burn in his eyes during his childhood and now in the present, tears which he refused to shed. Why was it that as soon as he managed to build himself a new life, something always managed to reach him, demolishing the little piece of heaven he had created for himself, sending the burning flames of hell to eat away at the defensive parts of his soul, breaking them down in order for him to feel absolutely miserable.  
  
Beep.  
  
"Wolenczeck."  
  
"Are you done Ensign?"  
  
"No sir"  
  
"To the bridge Ensign"  
  
"Sir, I..."  
  
Beep  
  
He sighed, picking up some random pieces of paper on which he recalled writing some numbers down. Rising from his sitting position on the chair, he eyed the ever-present book. Then he turned on his heels, finally discarding the idea of opening it again to consult the voices of wisdom that Mrs. Wolenczeck had patiently filled in. He made it to the door before changing his mind again and rushing back to the desk to pry the manuscript open. The third page had again begun with a quote.  
  
-Unfortunately, some people don't hear you until you scream- Stephany Powers.  
  
****  
  
That night he returned to his quarters exhausted, his body felt limp and heavy as he finally threw himself on his bunk, wanting nothing more but a quiet sleep, or at least some time to think. He stared at the ceiling for a couple of seconds, studying the small holes in the metals that he had gotten so used to. He turned his head then, and, again, the notebook resurfaced in his memory. He reached out with his arm, enjoying the feel of the smooth leather under his fingertips before wrapping his hand around the spine. His palm, encountered the hard folds of the cardboard as he lifted it. He opened it, scurrying past the quotes that he had read earlier, he focused on the endless paragraphs written in black. Many of them begun with dates. They were diary entries, just as he had imagined.  
  
The earliest one began in 2018. He started reading the endless chapters on Lawrence Wolenczeck, Lucas's father, their perennial fights, their few amends. Their discomfort for their child who didn't seem to be fitting in anywhere. Those were the paragraphs, which hurt the most, the ones that reminded him of his youth and the memories that were evoked with it.  
  
His eyes flew past the parts with descriptive passages of his daily school disasters, his fights, their bullying...His university career, his departure on seaQuest. As the dates became more recent, they also became less personal, just normal lists of the activities of the various days. Then came the day of their abduction to Hyperion. Nothing much came after that, it was as if she had been writing this book for him, now that he had presumably gone missing, she felt no need to carry on with this recapitulation of his apparent love-deprived life. Then as this book ended, he saw a small paragraph. It said:  
  
I began writing this journal when things started going wrong for us, for your father, for you, for me and for our family as a whole. I had hoped that after the tough times were over, I would be able to read back on this and learn from my mistakes or maybe just be thankful that I made it through after all. When you went missing, I didn't see a reason to carry on, the entries which were written seemed like heaven compared to what I was going through, knowing that you were gone. This is why I'm giving this to you, not to remind you of the pain which you had to undertake but as a way to let you know that its over, that it will never come back to hurt you.  
  
The book concluded with another quote written in blue:  
  
-What a wondrous work of fate that we could live our lives at the same time on earth- Unknown. 


End file.
